


Tally Marks

by hanalunettes



Category: FFXV - Fandom, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Tally Marks, Angst, Character Death, F/M, M/M, Prompto's Sixth Sense, Unrequited Love, tally marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 09:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16951095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanalunettes/pseuds/hanalunettes
Summary: Tally marks appear when someone falls in love, turns black when love is unrequited, and turns into a scar when the person they love dies.Noctis had the chance to experience all three tally marks, and he's not sure how he should feel.





	Tally Marks

**Author's Note:**

> A little something that had me inspired when I was reading a prompt off of tumblr, but I tweaked it just a bit. Something to indulge while I (slowly but surely) plan for the sequel for It's better this way, I guess? Anyway, Fic Dump, wrote while I was on a whim, and unbeta'ed. As usual, constructive criticism(s) are appreciated, enjoy!

The first person he loved was Lunafreya.

 

They had been in Tennebrae, Noctis as old as eight, perched on his wheelchair watching Lunafreya as she read and explained to him about Cosmogony. He’d been too young then to fathom what was the feeling; all he could hear was the beat of his heart against his eardrums, muting Lunafreya’s words as he stared into the blue hue of her eyes. They were so pretty — _she_ was so pretty; he couldn’t do anything about it except to sit back and be enamoured by her stories.

 

Later, that night, after they’ve given him his dose of medicine for his leg and he settled under the covers, he felt a sharp pain on his forearm. He’s screamed and shouted, crying for Regis. Of course, Regis was the first to reach him, gathering him up into his arms and rocking him gently. They’d inspected his forearm, where he felt the pain and discovered a small cut near his inner elbow, no bigger than a forefinger,  something akin to the skin being sliced open. But there was no blood when they checked his sheets, and no knife, just the split open skin.

 

 

***

 

When Nifflheim came to infiltrate and kill Regis, they’d obviously been caught off guard. Regis and Sylvia were talking when the maid wheeled Noctis in, Luna smiling brightly upon seeing his presence. One second, all he saw was lush greenery and blue sylleblossoms, but the next, shots cracked the peace as smoke swirled to the sky, all peace brought down by flames.

 

Mayhem was everywhere, fire licking the place up into ashes and blood spilling left and right. Queen Sylvia had been assassinated, Ravus’s small form hunching over her, crying.

 

Regis had scooped Noctis up from the wheelchair and grabbed Lunafreya’s hand, making a run towards the exit. They were almost there, just a hair’s breadth away from reaching safety, when hell broke loose.

 

Lunafreya, whom had been running alongside Regis and Noctis, slipped her hand away, standing still as Regis kept running.

 

“Luna!” he shouted, his little arms far too short to reach her, but the hope of her running to safety alongside them had was still there.

 

She whispered the words, but he’d heard them clearly, as though the wind carried them over to his ears.

 

“I’m sorry,” was all she could manage, “stay safe, Noctis.”

 

When they had returned to Lucis months later, he’d spotted a lone newspaper open on the table, teeth gritting in what emotion he knew was anger. They had covered up what really happened there, news media reporting that the Queen had perished under an “accidental fire”, but Noctis knew the truth, and he knew more than to speak about it out loud.

 

***

 

He was nothing but a small boy, no older than four when he’d seen his mother die. It was peaceful; she’d passed away in her sleep, they said, when he struggled to wake her up one morning, a stuffed carbuncle clutched tightly in one hand.

 

He didn’t know what _pass away_ means, but mom won’t open her eyes.

 

Regis had come running, the door burst open as Noctis ran to his dad, Regis scooping him up in his arms and cradled him, his eyes trained against the window farthest from the bed.

 

He could only see the silhouette, but his father had stepped forward, unshed tears in his eyes. “Aulea,” he breathed out, and Noctis felt Regis hugging him tighter.

 

There was a soft lull and a calm feeling over him when he saw the silhouette, taking the shape of his mom. Noctis rested his head onto his father’s shoulders as he studied the silhouette standing by the window. Its shoulders moved, bowing slightly towards Regis. They was silent for a while before Regis nodded and the silhouette slowly dissipate into the air, never to be seen again.

 

“I will, Aulea, I love you too.”

 

“Where’s mom, dad?” he’d inquired sleepily, just as his dad rocked him and kissed the crown of his forehead. Noctis snuggled closer.

 

“She’s in a safe, happy place now, my son. Let’s not worry about her.”

 

As Regis turn to pass him off to one of the servants, Noctis caught sight of a strange, red line peeking out under Regis’s sleeve, once red, slowly turning into a scab.

 

Like a scar.

 

And the memory stuck with him since then.

 

***

 

 

At sixteen, he’d learnt that they were something called tally marks, and they appeared across the skin once you’d fallen in love. The cut on his near elbow was still new, still fresh over his unblemished white skin like it had just happened yesterday. Sometimes, when he traced his fingers over it, he’d find the skin around them a little oversensitive. 

 

“Heyy Noct!” He didn’t have to look up to know the voice. Skinny legs slipped over the chair in front of him, straddling it, and forearms draped crossed over the top. He met crinkled periwinkle eyes and smiling lips, and couldn’t help but a small smile on his own. “Still on that again? Man, you shouldn’t touch it, one day it’s gonna rip open even more.”

 

He huffed, smirking as his fingers pulled away. It’s been a while since he met Luna in person, though long enough, he still thinks about her sometimes. They’ve communicated via Umbra and the notebook, but something yearns in him to actually see her in person.

 

“—ellooooo? Earth to Noct?” His eyes focused to waving hands right in front of his nose, and Prompto’s usual cheery expression turning into a frown. “Are you really okay buddy?” 

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he pulled out a neat lunchbox out. Of course, Ignis had dutifully tried to replicate the same Tennebraean pastry that he liked so much as a child, and he’d always baked extra, so much so that Noct would have the pastry almost every lunch.

 

“Ooh, can I try some?” At Noct’s nod, Prompto helped himself, almost moaning when he took a bite. “Seriously, this is the best.”

 

As Noct himself bit into the pastry, his mind travelled once more to baby blue eyes and soft blonde hair, accompanied with soothing voices gentle smiles. His scar had throbbed, but it didn’t matter.

 

***

 

“Tally marks,” Prompto said with finality, head dangling over the cushion seat of the sofa, legs crossed over the top.

 

“Wha—?”

 

“Tally marks,” Prompto says again, before turning to face Noctis. “They’re part of your skin to remind yourself who you love. They’re red when you fall in love — either you realise or you don’t — and turn black when your love is unrequited.” Prompto paused, and Noctis stared at him. His face was scrunched up, like he’s about to say something he shouldn’t have, but Noctis forced him to anyway. “and they turn into a scar if the person you love dies.”

 

Noct’s face was grim. He remembered that he’d seen it on his dad’s body, right by his wrist, peeking through when his sleeve was pushed back enough. It looked very much like a scar, like a scab, but he’d never really bothered to ask.

 

King Regis had that scar since Queen Aulea passed away.

 

“Where’d you suddenly know about that?” Noct had a slightly playful tone to his question. “Didn’t strike you as the type to nose about this stuff.”

 

Prompto rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, chuckling. “H-Heh, well... I came across it when I was researching about other stuff. Kinda interesting to read. At first, people thought it was because of soulmates, but several people had multiple of ‘em, so they just chalked it down to the people you love, apparently.”

 

They sat in silence for a while; Noct not really sure whether if it was a comfortable one, or an awkward one.

 

“Then what about the people who can’t love anymore?” he asked, suddenly curious.

 

Prompto was silent for a while, and it took Noctis’s gaze once again over onto him before he spoke. “Well, they say when you can’t bring yourself to love anyone anymore, a line appears across all the tally marks you gathered, kinda like when it reaches a five. But it’s kinda rare, huh, and there’s almost no information about it.” he paused again, almost thinking.

 

“Guess they didn’t wanna let the whole world know that they can’t love anymore.”

 

Noct was silent before he grunted, “huh, guess you’re right.”

 

 

***

 

Months after, when they were under the huge comforter Noctis had brought out from his own bed, a controller in each of their hands, the PS4 version of King’s Knight blaring on the screen.

 

Noct grunted when they were defeated, the screen dissolving into black and a huge, red ‘GAME OVER’ glared at them right back. Prompto heaved a sigh, setting down his controller. He was eyeing Noct for a while now, the Prince scrolling through his phone to let off some steam.

 

“What is it?” Noctis’s deep baritone startled Prompto, who then scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

 

“U-Uh... nothin’,” he managed to quip out, but Noct wasn’t having any of it. Not tonight.

 

“Spit it out, Prom,” Noct held his gaze evenly now. “Or I’m gonna force you to.”

 

There’s an underlying hint of joke underneath that tone, so subtle that those who aren’t comfortable enough would only have noticed the monotonous, steely part that covered over it. Underneath the comforter, Prompto’s leg reached out and kicked the Prince’s shin. Noct grunted in response, glaring, but still having that playful mirth underneath it.

 

“Heya, uhh..” Prompto began, and Noctis had his full attention towards him. Prompto began to feel fidgety, his anxiousness starting to creep through his veins. He reached out to the back of his neck, just a few centimetres below the start of his spine, and his fingers brushed against it. The tally mark. He only had one, courtesy of the ethereal human being in front of him, but he knew he couldn’t tell cause he couldn’t risk the friendship they’d built up together for the past few years.

 

He began, but he didn’t know where to start.

 

“What’s wrong?” Concern masked over the playful mirth that the prince had in his features, back sitting upright and eyes focused. Prompto felt more of the anxiety sweeping through his veins as if he’s under scrutiny.

 

“Uh... I just wanted to say, uhh..” he kept on stalling, but Noct knows better than to push. He’d wait patiently for Prompto to reveal whatever it is that he wanted, however long it might be.

 

“Well... you know, with the war going on...” Prompto sucked a huge breath in, shaky. “Whatever it might be, I-I mean, whatever happens to me—“

 

“Stop. What?” Noct knew better than to interrupt, but he couldn’t. What did Prompto mean whatever happens to him? What kind of bullshit was it?

 

“Hear me out buddy—“

 

“No,” Noct didn’t mean for his tone to sound borderline dangerous, and for Prompto to flinch at it. He’d almost felt sorry, like he wanted to do anything but talk about it and continue playing games, but he couldn’t. “No. Nothing is going to happen to you, Prompto.”

 

“But—“

 

“No. I am _not_ letting anything happen to you, as long as you’re with me.” With finality, he ended the conversation, never missing how Prompto curled in onto himself. He sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just, no Prom, nothing’s gonna happen, okay? Please.” The plead was as soft as a whisper, but Prompto didn’t miss it. Nervously, he chuckled, before grabbing the controller he’d left on his right knee before pressing onto ‘retry’ option on the screen.

 

“So, we’ll continue?”

 

Noct’s jaw was set, and his eyes were glaring at the television, but his voice was softer.

 

“Yeah.”

 

***

 

Sometime during winter, when the temperature had slipped into the chill and decorations for Christmas are being put up, Noct had beckoned Prompto over with the promise of late night video games. Ignis had tidied the home; pursing his lips but letting them be for the night with the promise of _you’re needed at the Citadel tomorrow, Noct, I’ll come and pick you up at nine sharp._

 

Prompto, bundled under his layers of clothing to keep him warm through his journey into Noct’s apartment, was smiling, cheeks flushed when Noct opened the door.

 

He’s cute, Noct had commented in a passing thought, before stalling slightly in surprise and regaining back his footing. What the hell, Noctis?

 

Prompto, unaware of what just happened, welcomed himself in shivering from the cold. “It’s super cold out there, Noct! You’re lucky inside here is toasty and warm.” He’d joked as he stripped off his outerwear.

 

“You could’ve told me; we could’ve played another time,” Noct said, frowning.

 

“For you, my prince, I’d brave the coldest of Shiva’s blessings.” Prompto winked.

 

Noct had only the time to blink back, and he almost missed how his heart stopped for a beat before gaining twice the speed.

 

Prompto was already occupying the sofa when they got back, controller in hand and eyes on the tele. “So, new game? The new Assassin’s Creed or what?”

 

Noctis was silent, staring at the blond as he moved about. “Well?” Prompto shook him out of his reverie. “What’re you waiting for, Noct? Let’s go!”

 

He was watching the blond play for a while, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration and unconsciously sticking out the tip of his tongue at the side of his mouth. He was trying to sneak past the guards and avoid detection, and he’s almost reached the goal. Noctis was softly studying his freckles, the way they showed on his cheeks, and down his shoulders, and he didn’t know he got a hand reaching out, to trace those freckles, to—

 

There was a knock on the door, and Prompto paused the game, Noctis’s hand freezing mid-air. Prompto quirked a brow. “Are you expecting anyone?”

 

“Pizza,” Noctis huffed as the blond got up to answer the door. He came back carrying two large boxes, ever the sunshine smile on his face. Noctis’s heart clenched, there’s a feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on, and right as Prompto was about to hand him the soda,

 

it slipped off his fingers and fell to the floor with an echo, Noctis’s strained groans along with it. He’d withered, sucking a deep breath through his gritted teeth as pain shot through his right elbow.

 

It was like his muscle was torn open by a knife, only there was no blood, and it wasn’t.

 

Prompto was beside him in an instant, but his questions and words were swimming through Noctis’s brains as echoes. His right forearm burns, he felt this burn before, he remembered it vividly, it was so damn familiar because it hurt like a bitch.

 

When the pain was gone and he’d stopped withering, he slowly detached the hand that was over his right forearm, only to find the familiar tally mark scar that had accompanied the one he had for Luna.

 

It was just beside the one that he was sure he had for Luna, the one in black. But there was another one beside it. A new, fresh tally mark.

 

“Dude, are you okay?” Prompto was on his knees, already helping Noct up into a sitting position, his back resting against Prompto’s thigh, the blond’s arms gripping his shoulder. “Should I call Iggy? I think he— dude, is that a tally mark?”

 

Noctis rushed to cover it, gritting his teeth. “I’m going to bed.”

 

“Dude, what about the—“

 

“I said I’m going to bed.” It came out harsher than usual and he’d winced; he was sure Prompto winced as well at his tone.

 

He slowly picked himself up and went straight for his room, closing the door shut with a click.

 

Outside, the snow falls.

 

 

***

 

He’d stayed and defended his kingdom when Nifflheim attacked, and they were on the bridge when his greatest nightmare struck. He should’ve known that something bad was going to happen, and he was weak enough that he couldn’t be there in time. There was a bunch of _what if_ s and _what could’ve been_ s that followed after, but they couldn’t change what had happened then.

 

There had only been him, Prompto, and a few of his dad’s Kingsglaive, fighting against the dozens of magitek troopers that were sent their way, and he’d been too preoccupied in killing the ones within his range that he forgot the ones without.

 

“Noct!” There was a shout, and the MT that tried to assassinate him from the back dropped shortly and slumped over, dissolving into black smoke. He was lucky.

 

Prompto, however, wasn’t.

 

Shortly after he’d saved Noct, he was stabbed through from the back with the spear from an MT Assassin, eyes wide and mouth open as he registered what was happening.

 

He’d been too late, too late, too late. Prompto fell onto the floor, shivering, but the smile he had on his face never dulled. Everything was a blur just then, dissolving into static noise as his vision zeroed in onto Prompto lying on the cold, hard gravel of the bridge.

 

He’d been too late. Of course.

 

He didn’t even notice the tally mark on his right forearm turning black, a line drawing itself straight through the center of both tally marks on his skin.

 

“PROMPTO!” Noctis threw his sword and landed on the MT’s chest, killing it effectively. When its mechanical body dissipated, he rushed to carry Prompto’s body, cradling him in his arms. 

 

Time seemed to slow as Prompto lifted a bloodied palm to run his thumb over Noctis’s cheekbone. He hadn’t realised he was crying, gripping Prompto tighter. There was blood everywhere, and it rapidly spread into the pool around him. Prompto’s eyes grew heavier.

 

“Heyy bud,” he said weakly. “Don’t cry,” a small, weak cough drew out of him, and a pained smile followed after.

 

“No, no no no please don’t Prom, you’re gonna survive, you can do this, just stay with me a bit longer!” Noct screamed, holding him in one arm whilst struggling to reach help with another. Hope will come in the form of help, and help will come in the form of Ignis; he’d always knew what to do, and Prompto would be healed, alive and well, and everything is going to be okay again.

 

But everything was not.

 

Prompto chuckled weakly.

 

“Never thought this day would come,” he exhaled shakily, periwinkle eyes glassy. “Bud, whatever it is, listen to me,” Prompto drew Noctis’s attention again. 

 

“Something happened to me, and I’m not gonna make it. But promise me, promise me that... that you’ll find someone out there.”

 

“Wha...?”

 

“Just promise me,” Prompto gripped his shirt by the chest, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

 

“ _No!_ ” Noct rasped out. “You’re gonna make it Prom, please hang on a little more—“ the weak squeeze on his arm silenced him.

 

“Please.

 

His voice had grown weaker. Prompto was going.

 

“Yes, I promise.”

 

Prompto smiled. His voice was shaky. “Knew I could count on you.”

 

And as Prompto rested back, Noctis knew that the last of his life went with him. He’d cried, screamed, retaliated.

 

But Prompto still isn’t coming back.

 

***

 

He’d visited his grave regularly, his heart never failing to clench against his chest when he saw the tombstone with his name on it. _If only_ he was a tad bit faster, he would’ve saved him, _if only_ he was a tad bit stronger, Prompto would’ve been alive, if only he’d said the words he wanted to say,

 

and maybe Prompto would say it back.

 

He was too busy mulling over _what if_ s and _what could have been_ s when he’d heard it. It was soft, but yet so very distinct tone of his name, and he wouldn’t forget the voice till his last breath, even if he wanted to.

 

“Noct,” the voice had whispered, begging him to look away from the engraved tombstone. “Noct.”

 

“Prom?” his voice had cracked a bit through the tears, and he laughed. How pathetic of him.

 

“Noct,” he swore he could see Prompto walking towards him from behind his tombstone, sitting gently down cross-legged right in front of him, always donning a smile. “Noct, you shouldn’t be here.”

 

Sudden anger filled through him as he tightened his clenched fists. “And what, huh Prom? I can’t leave you, I can’t even get you out of my mind. Why was it you who had to leave, if only I was a bit faster, stronger, and then you would have lived Prom. There were so many things I could’ve said but I didn’t, could’ve done but I didn’t, and now you’re gone, now—“

 

The hand that came to his shoulder passed through, only spurring the tears from his eyes. The smile Prompto donned had turned heavy, sad, but he still did smile. Noctis didn’t understand. Was this not affecting Prompto as much as him?

 

“Noct, buddy, it’s okay. I don’t have much time

left, so hear me out. I understand. I’ve known for a long time the tally mark was mine, but I somehow couldn’t say it.” The small chuckle after that punched Noctis’s gut, but he’d stayed silent. “That doesn’t matter now, you’ve gotta find someone new, someone who you can live with, and promise me, bud, you’ll love them as much as you love me. I’ll be waiting for you on the other side, okay?”

 

Noct grinded his teeth; how is he going to find someone when he’d invested his everything towards Prompto? And how could he tell Prompto that, after him, that he couldn’t love again, that there was a line straight through the tally marks he had for both Prompto and Luna?

 

But as his silhouette slowly started drifting away; Noct knew that he had to, if he couldn’t fulfil the promise he made for Prompto, he would at least live his life till they’re reunited at the other side.

 

“Okay, I’ll try.”

 

“Great, and I’ll see you on the other side.”

 

The last person he’d loved was Prompto, and Noct couldn’t bring it to himself to love someone else.


End file.
